


Payphone

by The_Fangirl_Sunstorm



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: All medical stuff is made up by me, Angst, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Needs a Hug, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gen, Hiding Medical Issues, Illnesses, Running Away, So if there are any inconsistencies now you know why, The Sides are brothers, poor Virgil is just trying to protect his famILY
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-01-04 21:23:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21204308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Fangirl_Sunstorm/pseuds/The_Fangirl_Sunstorm
Summary: Virgil sat on the dark street corner, leaning against an old payphone. He fought to keep his voice steady as he spoke into the receiver."...It's...it's me..."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The inspiration for this fic came from a drawing done by @technicallycreativ on Tumblr. Hope y'all enjoy

The smell of gasoline and rusty pennies hung heavily in the air as Virgil stepped off of the greyhound bus, hoodie up and eyes trained to the ground to avoid drawing the attention of the other late-night commuters. One older woman getting on the bus looked curiously at him as they passed each other, and he tensed, preparing to lie or ignore her completely, but luckily she seemed to dismiss any thought of talking to the teen, shaking her head of greying hair a little and continuing on her way. 

_ Thank god. _

Hands shoved deep into his pockets to conceal their slight tremor from prying eyes, the high schooler walked carefully down the block until he was out of sight from anyone lingering by the metro bench. The last thing he wanted was to draw any more unwanted attention. Virgil stopped and sat tiredly on the curb outside of a neglected-looking gas station. He gazed around at the dimly lit area, the gas pumps streaked with grime, until his eyes came to rest on a green missing child flyer tacked to a pole. 

_ How long until one of the others puts those up for you? _Virgil winced at the thought, thinking of his older brothers, who by now must have noticed his disappearance. He could picture their reactions; Patton in tears, eyes puffy and red. Logan tense and speech clipped, sitting rigidly straight the way he did when he was worried. Roman, hands balled into fists. The thought of them so upset, knowing that _ it was his fault, _ hurt worse than he thought was possible. 

Virgil hated it. 

He thought he had known just how horrible this would be. Virgil had thought of nothing else from the moment he made the decision to leave, picturing it over and over again in his mind. But now it was _ real, _and it was _so much worse_ than he had prepared for.

Neon lights glinted dully from run-down business signs across the street and the wind bit into his skin, not quite freezing, but enough to make him shiver and pull his hoodie tighter. He thought of his brothers again, and this time he could not suppress the lump rising in his throat. Leaving them felt _ wrong, _it went against every instinct in his body. Like a fish choosing to live on land, left gasping and spluttering, unable to tell the difference between up and down. 

Leaving them felt like he was _ dying _. 

A dry, choked sound left his throat as the irony of that realization sunk in, and he pressed his palms against his eyes. The boy’s shoulders slumped, and he placed his head in his hands, feeling faintly nauseous as the full weight of what he had just done began to weigh down on him. 

He had run away from home, and he couldn’t _ ever _ go back. 

He took in deep, shaky breaths, trying to contain his spiraling thoughts, but it was a wasted effort.

Never again would he banter with Roman, identical smirks on both of their faces. He wouldn’t wake up to the sound of Patton humming as he made breakfast, or hear Logan’s fascinated rambling about some topic Virgil could barely understand. 

They were his entire world, and the realization that he had lost these moments with them, that he had lost _ them _was almost too much to process.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Virgil’s mother had been in and out of hospitals for as long as he could remember. When he was eleven, she had been in her longest period of remission of the disease in years, and things had been looking up for her. <strike> _ Virgil had thought _ </strike>, they had all thought that maybe things would stay that way. That they could be a complete family, her and the four brothers.

Then, a few months later, she contracted a virus. The doctors were unsure exactly how. For anyone else it would have been only a minor inconvenience, something to be suffered for a short time, and then overcome by their immune system. In her case it was different, _ much different. _

When people with her disease caught it, it was often called a catalyst virus, because it set off a chain reaction in the host. It reawakened the illness, instigating new symptoms that were worse than ever before. Soon she was once again confined to a hospital bed.

The boys were not allowed to see her. 

The disease was genetic, they all carried a dormant strain, and being around her could have triggered it in them.

She fought hard but day by day she grew weaker, until one afternoon, Logan, who was the oldest and in college at the time, received a call. She was gone.

After that, it had been just the four brothers, and in the beginning, it was hard. It was still hard, but together they had made a life for themselves. Logan had finished college and started at a testing lab. Patton had started earning his own degree, working a job at a shelter on the side. Roman was just a few months from his high school graduation, and had starred in the local theater numerous times. 

They had been happy. Until the day prior, lying on the floor of the bathroom, Virgil hadn’t realized how quickly that happiness could vanish.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They were all carriers for his Mom’s disease, he had always known that. Virgil had grown up with annual doctor's visits and endless reminders to be careful, to notice the warning signs of the virus. When he had started feeling constantly tired, and bruises appeared on his body with little effort, he had tried to push the panic down. Told himself that he was just being paranoid, until several days passed with no change led him to lock himself in the bathroom, hands all but shaking with anxiety as he reached into the back of the medicine cabinet, where his Mom’s old diagnosis tests still sat. He had expected nothing to happen.

The moment after he pricked his finger, was the longest of his life. The test was a simple one. If he was clean, which he was, he _ had _ to be, the paper-like strip would stay its original color. 

He pressed his pricked finger to the sterile white strip, holding his breath.

For five seconds the strip remained exactly the same. Then Virgil watched with dawning horror, as the strip turned a cloudy grey, the color spreading across the entire paper, and then deepening to a rich black, like storm clouds invading a peaceful sky. There was no mistaking the results. 

He slumped to the floor of the bathroom. Virgil felt stunned, as if someone had hit him over the head. Surely someone must have, because why else would it be so hard to breathe? He noted dully, from the back of his mind, that he was beginning to panic.

_ He was infected. _ The thought circled in his head but he couldn’t make any sense of it. Disbelief and horror battled for dominance in his thoughts. _ This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t- _He wrapped his arms around his torso, legs pressed to his chest as if that could stop the shaking. The panic attack threatened to pull him under, and for a moment he almost gave in to the blackness. Then a new thought froze his brain in an entirely different way.

_ His brothers. _

The fear he felt for them was overwhelming and immediate, stronger even than the one he felt for his own life. _ Oh God they were carriers too. _ If he was around them, they would catch the catalyst virus from him. His mind was awash with newfound despair, but amidst the grief and terror rose one thought, and he clung to it, _ He couldn’t, wouldn’t allow that to happen. _

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part of him wanted nothing more than to tell them. Virgil wanted them to hold him the way they had when he was a kid. The way they had after their mom had died, clutching him tightly as he shook with grief, whispering reassurances, and telling him over and over again that it would be ok. His whole being ached with the need for that warmth, but he wasn’t naive. He couldn’t touch them without condemning them to his fate. He could picture what would happen if he told them. The shock that would cover all three faces, the way they would reach for him and then stiffen, holding back as they realized what it meant. _ No, he couldn’t tell them _. He couldn’t bear the hopelessness, the way they would look at him if they knew the truth. 

There was no cure for the disease. The most prominent symptoms: weakness and fatigue were chronic, but in most cases they developed slowly and patients were able to live a good life for many years before the condition progressed enough to debilitate them extensively. For Virgil, it would be different. 

The virus would speed up his body’s deterioration, and the symptoms would be much more violent. His brothers would insist on caring for him, or sending him to the hospital. There was very little doctors would be able to do for him, and the medical bills would be overwhelming. Every moment he spent with his family would be risking their lives. He knew they would do it without hesitation, that they would run themselves aground trying to save a lost cause. Virgil steadied himself, despair hardening into grim resolve. He_ couldn’t _ put them in danger, _ couldn’t _watch as they threw their lives away for him. 

He would do whatever it took to protect his family. Even if that meant hurting them, and hurting himself even more. 

There was no time for elaborate plans. Virgil spent the sleepless night tossing and turning, trying desperately not to dwell on what would happen to him afterward, otherwise the fear would consume him. Instead, he focused on the only thing that really mattered, getting far enough away from his brothers that he couldn’t hurt them.

  
  


He would keep them safe from him, no matter the cost, even if the look Patton gave him the next morning as he handed him his lunch for school, blissfully unaware that this was the last time he would see him, made Virgil feel like he was drowning. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Needless to say, Virgil did not go to school that day. Instead, he walked five miles to the nearest bus station and bought a ticket for the first available bus. Several hours later, it was now nearing midnight, and sitting on the side of the road in a strange city Virgil had never been to before; looking up at a sky that didn’t even look the same, the stars he used to look at with Logan obscured by the city lights, Virgil had never felt more alone. 

His eyes fell on a nearby payphone, dull blue glinting under a streetlamp, and an idea overtook him. He stared at the box, torn by indecision. He hadn’t planned on calling anyone, it would be easier if he just disappeared, so they couldn’t ask questions or follow him somehow. But suddenly the thought of his three brothers, terrified or angry or worried, made his heart ache so deeply it hurt to breathe. 

He knew it was selfish, that talking to them would only make things harder, but he wanted nothing more in that moment than to hear their voices a final time.

He stood up and walked toward it, his face a strange mixture of yearning and sadness.

His hand went to his pocket, grabbing a quarter from the meager supply of cash he had managed to take with him. He hoped to find some odd jobs before it ran out, waiting tables or stocking shelves, enough to pay for food and maybe a crappy hotel room, but he knew his chance of success was bleak. 

He dialed his home number, and then sat down, leaning his back against the pole as the phone rang. It occurred to him that he had no idea what to say, but he didn’t have time to think before the dialing stopped. He leaned into the receiver in his hand, feeling small and impossibly weary.

“...It’s...its me.” He managed to say, hope against hope that one of them would answer.

“Vir- GUYS ITS VIRGIL!,” Logan’s voice crackled to life, “Oh_ thank god _. Where are you, tell us where you are and we’ll come get you, we’ll come get you okay don’t move-” His oldest brother’s voice sounded strained and desperate. Logan was rarely prone to strong outbursts of emotion, so hearing him sound so vulnerable, so frantic was like a blow to Virgil’s chest.

“I’m not. um, I’m not coming home.” He could hear Patton and Roman in the background, muffled voices laced with worry.

“...what?” Logan sounded confused, and the background noise in the call increased, “Patton _ stop _ I can’t hear him.”

“I just wanted you to know I’m okay or whatever. Its fine. I’m gonna… I’m better on my own.” The sentence came out all wrong, twisted as his desire to tell them the truth warred with his need to keep protecting them. He wasn’t better on his own, not by a long shot. He _ needed _ them, but they needed to be safe even more. 

There was silence on the line, but he could feel Logan’s hurt and confusion. Patton’s voice interjected, pitched with stress. 

“What’s he saying.”

“He doesn’t want to come home…”

“WHAT WHY!” Roman demanded, sounding equally upset, if a touch more forceful.

“It’s not anything against you all.” _ Please don’t think this is your fault, _ Virgil thought desperately. “I just…” _ I just what? I just love you too much to endanger you, I just had to protect you, I just needed to keep you away from me even though it hurts like nothing else. _

“...I shouldn’t have called… this was a bad idea…” His throat began closing up, but he fought to keep his voice steady.

“No! No, Virgil. Don’t hang up!” Logan’s voice was pleading. Virgil had not let himself cry until now, but the tone of his brother's voices threatened to tip him over the edge.

“...I, uh, I_ loveyouguys…” _The teen managed to choke out.

“Virgil, plea-”

He ended the call and placed the phone receiver back in the box. Only then, did he allow himself to fall apart. 

Virgil hung his head and sobbed.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Virgil spent what was left of the night outside of the abandoned gas station, arms wrapped tightly around himself to try and keep out the chill and the loneliness of the darkened street. 

After the sun had risen, the teen walked a few blocks until he stumbled on a small public park, the kind with a kiddie jungle gym and a lawn of sprawling grass for peewee baseball games. Virgil passed the morning sitting down in one of the benches and trying to act like he was just another face in the crowd of drifting families with small kids and clumps of teenagers loitering in the grass. The teen ate an apple and a granola bar from his backpack from the meager stash of food he had put in his schoolbag in place of books the day he left home, but found he couldn’t stomach anything further for the rest of the day.

The emo remembered one of his classes at school discussing symptoms of shock and stress, how experiencing unfamiliar circumstances like his could cause time to feel distorted, and to lose the quality that made it feel real, but he had not fully grasped the concept until now. Virgil felt dazed, like he was stuck in a daydream that he would surely wake up from at any moment, homesickness already a dull ache in his chest despite the fact that it hadn’t even been a full day since his hasty departure.

Virgil was surprised when afternoon began to shift into night again so quickly. He had hoped to spend it in the park, feeling that the nearby security cameras and streetlamps would make it a safer place than the abandoned gas station had been, but right around sunset the last of the families had begun to file out of the park, and a groundskeeper had informed Virgil that he would have to leave, as the park gate was locked at night in order to prevent bums from sleeping on the benches or people throwing parties and leaving trash. 

Barred from his temporary haven, Virgil found himself wandering the streets again, arms wrapped tightly around himself in a similar fashion to the first night he had run away; thoughts of monsters and attackers in the shadows making him fold further in on himself as his steps quickened and his breath grew heavy from exertion and anxiety.

_ He had to find somewhere safe,  _ he thought to himself. The teen was in no position to defend himself should anyone hostile discover him. He had gotten lucky last night, but as the last 48 hours and his deadly diagnosis had proved, luck could easily run out. Virgil had always had a slight frame, and he could feel exhaustion tugging him beneath the fading adrenaline, leaving him tired and vulnerable as his sleeplessness began to catch up with him. 

_ One of the symptoms of the disease is weakness _ , a voice in the back of his head reminded him.  _ Maybe it’s spreading faster than you thought. Maybe you’re running out of time. Maybe- _

Virgil cut the thought off, gritting his teeth and digging his fingers into his arms.  _ Deep breaths Virgil. _ He thought to himself as he attempted to clear his head. It was something his brothers said to him often, especially when he was younger. The memory both stung and soothed him as he fought to get his breathing under control.

One time as a little kid, he had gotten lost at the store. He had been holding Patton’s hand, but had gotten distracted; he paused to look at something or other- he couldn’t even remember what any more, and suddenly he couldn’t see his family. The store had been crowded, and Virgil had quickly been overwhelmed by the number of strangers around. He had been panicked, breathing erratic and face buried in his knees as he huddled at the end of an aisle, small enough that no one in the crowd looked down to notice him. After a few minutes he heard people, his family calling his name. It was Logan who finally discovered him, though he was told later that the whole group had split up to search. The then middle-schooler, though he had always been mature for his age, rounded the corner and spotted his little brother, curled up on the floor. The boy quickly took a knee beside him, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. 

“Virgil it’s Logan. I’m here, you’re safe now.” Virgil had looked up, round face still wet with tears, unable to respond past the little sobs in his throat as he threw his arms around Logan. The older boy returned the embrace, holding him close and stroking his hair in the way their mother did for them.

“Its ok Virge, its ok now. Deep breaths.” Logan had said. Virgil remembered how relieved he had been, how safe he always felt with his older siblings around him. He relied on them so much growing up, but he hadn’t realized just how much until now, when they felt so far out of reach.

What Virgil wouldn’t give to have his oldest brother here now, reassuring him again. Thoughts of Logan’s frantic voice from Virgil’s phone call that night, how upset all of his brothers had sounded, filled the youngest with guilt as he took a seat on another bus bench, needing a moment to collect himself. Walking around in the dark made him feel paranoid and vulnerable, so even the dubious shelter the bus booth provided helped Virgil to feel a bit calmer. At least with the plastic wall at his back he no longer had to look over his shoulder.

Virgil slumped in on himself and took a few steadying breaths.  _ He needed a plan _ . The teen fished his money out of his pocket, counting the loose bills and grimacing when he realized just how few there were. At best he could afford a crappy hotel room for a night or two if no one asked for an ID or found out he was a minor, and maybe some cheap food but then what? He would be out on the street again. Suddenly his plan to make more money seemed foolish, who would hire a high schooler who would clearly look like he had been sleeping outside? 

_ He needed a place to crash, just until he could figure out what to do next _ . The emo realized. Trying to go it solo would do no good if he ended up permanently homeless. Who knew how long he had left, but Virgil wasn’t eager to spend his remaining time sleeping on benches and begging for food.

_ But who would take him in? Who would he not be a danger to?  _ Virgil looked at the bus map on the bus booth’s wall, tracing the routes with his fingers. Suddenly he stopped, fingers resting by a college a few towns away.  _ Maybe… maybe his cousin would let him stay for a bit.  _ Virgil felt both relieved and uneasy at the thought of seeing a familiar face again. He longed for the comfort his cousin could provide, but Virgil couldn’t risk him calling his brothers and telling them where he was. Virgil needed to disappear, needed some time to figure out what, if anything, he could tell his siblings, and how to keep them from coming after him once he had told them. Involving his cousin would be unfair to both parties, but Virgil wasn’t sure how much longer he could sit in the dark like this, feeling vulnerable and almost lightheaded from stress and tiredness. Quite frankly, he was out of options. 

Virgil knew his cousin was a college student who lived off-campus with a roommate, and though the emo teen hadn’t seen him for years he remembered the boy's big heart well enough that Virgil knew he wouldn’t be turned away.  _ _ Virgil clenched his fists by his sides as he weighed the decision. After a moment he let out a long breath. 

“I guess I have no choice.” The boy said to himself, as he prepared to wait for the next bus. “Let’s hope I’m right about you Thomas.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t worry, more chapters are coming!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeframe: This chapter takes place about a week after the events of chapters 1 and 2, (and is in Roman’s POV)

Roman Sanders kicked a rock lying in the middle of the sidewalk, glowering to himself as he walked home from school. The piece of loose concrete made a gratifying _ crash _as it skidded into the side of a metal dumpster, and for a moment the actor took pleasure in the ruckus caused by the action, before a woman on the street corner with two young kids gave him a disapproving look. Her reproach brought the teen’s bad mood back full force, and Roman’s face settled on a sulking expression as he continued to walk towards the house he shared with his three brothers.

_ Two brothers. There were only two brothers living there now. _ Roman reminded himself. The thought cut deep, like salt in the wound he was trying so hard to ignore. _ Everything _ reminded him of his younger brother the past few days, there was no escaping the knowledge of his absence, the incident that had blown a hole in the Sanders familys' universe without warning. 

All of the past week Roman’s anger had been bubbling near the surface, but Roman pushed it down as he reached his front door. The teen reached for his house key, hoping to enter the house discreetly, before realizing with a groan that his pockets were empty. 

_ He must have left them in his room that morning. _ The teen thought to himself. Roman took a deep breath to compose himself before he rang the doorbell, hoping that one of his brothers were home and he wouldn’t end up locked out all afternoon. The door opened, and the young actor was greeted by a rather urgent looking Patton. The second-eldest brother slumped slightly upon seeing him, as if he had been expecting someone else.

“Oh Roman... I’m sorry.” Patton said guiltily, before wiping his face of whatever expression he had been wearing just a moment ago, too quick for even the actor to identify it. Roman winced all the same, knowing that Patton must’ve been hoping for an officer with a development on Virgil’s missing person’s case, or thought for just a moment, that it was their youngest brother coming home. 

“Sorry Pat, I know you weren’t expecting me home early.” Roman mumbled, feeling even worse than before as he entered the house, watching as Patton shut the door before turning to look at the young actor. 

“It’s ok Roman,” the elder sanders replied easily, “Why don’t you drop off your backpack and then meet me in the kitchen so we can talk for a bit. I’m baking sugar cookies for the volunteers at the pet shelter this weekend.”

Roman nodded his head before doing as the other said, not really in the mood to socialize but unable to think of a good enough reason to refuse. All three of them were taking the current situation badly, but Patton being arguably the most emotional of the group by nature, had been really struggling to come to terms with what Virgil had done. Roman didn’t want to add to his brother’s misery by brushing him off.

Roman passed Logan’s room on the way to his own, and stopped at the entrance to look. Logan had left his door half open, and inside his room the eldest Sanders’ bed was unmade, both signs of extreme stress on the logical man’s part. Virgil and Roman used to tease Logan about just how organized the other was, but the lack of usual neatness was concerning to say the least. 

_ If Virgil were here he would probably say something witty and sarcastic about how only a family emergency like the one they were currently experiencing could make Logan give up his usual routines. _ Roman realized. The thought was bitter in his head. 

He could see his brother hunched over his desk on the far side of the room, looking intently at his work but with an unmistakably weary slump to his shoulders.

“Hey Lo, I’m home.” Roman said. The other spun around in his chair and gave the actor a tired nod in greeting, before returning to look at his computer screen. Roman breathed a sigh of relief, glad for once to not be the center of attention as he moved down the hallway, dropping his bag just inside the doorway of his room before trudging back to the kitchen to meet Patton.

Roman paused at the doorway, watching as the second oldest Sanders pulled a tray of cookies out of the oven. Patton set down the treats and frowned a little at Roman, taking in the teen’s disheveled appearance.

“So what happened Ro, not that I’m not happy to see you, but you usually have school until 3:00. Are you ok?” Patton asked, taking a break from baking to look his brother up and down in worry.

“I was also wondering the answer to that question.” Logan said, entering the room suddenly. The man had his laptop under one arm as he moved to take a seat at the dining table. It had been a part of the older Sanders’ agreement with Patton that he spent a few hours outside of his room no matter how busy he was, ever since Logan got his first job after college, and it seemed he had chosen now to join the group.

Roman’s heart sunk, knowing that if Logan was also there, it would be that much harder to get away. He couldn’t afford to let them see what poor shape he was in. The _ last _ thing the creative teen wanted in that moment was to talk about how he was feeling, and as much as he needed to let it out, he didn’t want it to be around them. The high schooler stared at his feet, struggling to collect himself before answering.

A moment passed before Roman spoke, lifting his head quickly and plastering on a seemingly easy smile. He wasn’t an actor for nothing after all, and he had had plenty of practice in concealing his less than pleasant emotions since Virgil’s disappearance. 

“I’m fine Pat, no need to worry.” Roman reassured, working to seem as nonchalant as possible. “A few kids left school early today, there was a walkout protest for better school curriculums and I left to support the cause like my friends. My teachers already know and I’ve got my missed assignments in my bag.” 

_ It wasn’t a lie, not really _ , the teen thought to himself, trying to quell his conscience. There _ had _ been a protest after all, the fact that he had other motivations for leaving was unimportant. 

In truth, Roman had been struggling in class the past few days, and the protest had been a welcome excuse to leave. He had been snappish and distant and his friends had started to take notice. He’d already told them about Virgil of course, but he refused to talk about it any further and their sympathy gazes were threatening to drive him mad. He was desperate for an escape, and the protest was all the opportunity the young actor had needed.

“Oh ok kiddo.” Patton said, easily believing Roman’s half truth as he returned to busying himself with arranging cookies on the cooling rack.

“I suppose that is an adequate reason,” Logan added, “Next time though, be sure to tell us beforehand.” Roman nodded his head, relieved that neither pressed the issue further. Patton offered the creative teen a cookie and Roman took it before excusing himself to his room, letting the smile drop from his face once he had closed the door behind himself. 

The teen placed the uneaten treat on his desk, and laid on his bed, burying his face deep into his pillows and trying to unsee his younger brother's closed bedroom door at the end of the hall; tried to forget that Virgil wasn’t at home, that he had no clue where his brother was or if he would ever come back. 

Roman tried to ignore the ache deep in his chest at the realization that without the emo around, there was no one to call him Princey, no one to get into dumb arguments about their music tastes, no one to give him that knowing smirk that was pure _ Virgil _from across the table at breakfast. 

Roman always been grateful to Logan and Patton for keeping the family together after Mom had died. He knew how hard it was, the sacrifices both of them had made to keep them all afloat. 

He had never realized just how big an impact Virgil made as well, just how central he was to Roman’s life, to keeping the group together. They weren’t _ whole _ without him, a fact Roman hadn’t given much thought until now, watching both of his brothers drive themselves crazy with worry, and feeling his own lungs tighten with fear anytime he stopped to think too long about where the youngest Sanders might be; what _ possibly _could have caused him to abandon them all like this.

“_I’m better on my own.” _The youngest had said over the phone, though Virgil’s voice had seemed shaky and unsure even then. Virgil had gone through rebellious phases in the past, but the teen’s anxiety usually made impulse decisions out of the question. 

_ Could he really have meant what he said? What would drive such a dramatic shift in mindset in such a short time? _Virgil could be prickly, but he always made sure the others knew he cared, and that he was grateful for the support they continually provided him.

_ It just didn’t make sense_, Roman’s mind insisted, even as the ache in his chest threatened to overwhelm him. 

Roman tried to pull back from his thoughts, to keep himself from falling over the edge, but the damage had already been done. He felt his throat tighten and his eyes burn against his will. 

This wasn’t the first time he had cried out of sheer helplessness and frustration over the last week, but he hated it all the same. 

The tears were hot against his skin and he scrubbed his eyes roughly with the back of his hand to force them away. Maybe it would have worked, maybe he would’ve been able to push it all down again and keep trudging forward, if Patton hadn’t chosen that moment to open the door and walk in to check on him.

_ “Oh Roman.” _ Patton said sympathetically as he saw the state his younger brother was in. That plus the look on Patton’s face crushed Roman’s final resolve, and he felt his face crumple as he began to truly break down for the first time since Virgil’s disappearance. 

Patton was quick to join Roman on the bed, pulling the other into a hug and letting the younger grip his shirt as he sobbed. 

“I..I just… I just _ miss _ him Patton.” Roman choked out into the other’s shoulder. 

“Shhh, I know, I know,” Patton soothed, “I… I miss him too.” The elders voice wobbled a bit on the last sentence, which only made Roman clutch him tighter, returning the comfort in his own way. 

It wasn’t nearly enough, he knew. There was only so much they could say, but in the end no words were truly needed. The pair lapsed into silence and simply held each other until Roman’s tears had dried up, and Patton’s as well, as Roman was sure he had seen a few silent tears streak down his brothers face, like raindrops on a car window. 

Nothing about this felt ok. Loosing Virgil was almost physically painful, and Roman had no clue how to cope, how to move forward. But he was grateful that at least Patton was here with him, comforting him and steadying him the way he had all of Roman’s life, and that Logan was just a few steps away, offering the same steadiness when needed.

For now that would have to be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t worry, more chapters are coming!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeframe: This chapter takes place where chapter 2 left off, (and before chapter 3 takes place)

Virgil twisted his hoodie string in his hands restlessly, gazing out the window of the bus at the city passing by in a blur. The teen watched as the early morning light began to filter in through the tinted glass. Virgil had always had a rather inconsistent sleeping schedule, so he had seen his fair share of sunrises, but he welcomed this one with more eagerness than usual. There was a strange sort of relief in the familiar action, that at least the sun still rose and set like it always had no matter where Virgil was; and the sunlight was a welcome change from the darkness that had pressed on Virgil’s consciousness all night. Virgil let his head rest against the glass, eyes falling shut tiredly.

_ Had it really only been two nights ago he had been sound asleep in his own bed?  _ Virgil’s chest felt tight at the thought. He’d pulled handfuls of all-nighters in the past, both for school and because of his anxiety, but even then he had never felt this worn down. The emo felt tired down to his very  _ bones  _ and his head was fuzzy and unfocused under the weight. His thoughts moved sluggishly, which explained why it took a moment for the teen to register the faint tremor in his hands.

The oddness of the sensation helped to clear Virgil’s head, pulling him back to the present as he opened his eyes to examine his hands, which had begun to shake without him realizing. Virgil tried to steady them, struggling to straighten the fingers all the way and found that he couldn't. It wasn’t painful, but the loss of control had the teen panicking all the same. 

_ What do I do?  _ Virgil thought, grasping for any memory of something like this happening to him before. His hands had only ever shook like this before during panic attacks, and though Virgil was far from calm he knew that wasn’t the problem. He tried to remember if his mother’s disease had ever given her tremors, but it was difficult to sort through which of his memories were accurate and what had been twisted by time. 

As the youngest son, he had been sheltered from a lot of the truth about his mother’s condition. She had always but on a brave face for them, even when it became clear that she was not going to get better. Even when the catalyst virus and the disease had ravaged her body until she was too weak to even care for herself, the hospital staff had said that she retained her spirit. Patton reminded him of her sometimes in that way, that his older brother worked to find a bright side no matter what life threw at him. Thought Virgil wasn’t sure if even Patton’s trademark optimism could find a silver lining to this. 

Virgil balled his hands into fists and pressed them against his sides as they continued to shake, desperate for the tremors to stop. The reality of his condition sank in all over again. Virgil had known, in a detached way, that he was going to get very sick. He had watched his mom’s health deteriorate firsthand and his test results had been clear: he’d been infected with the catalyst virus just like her, but until now his first priority had been getting as far away from his brothers as he needed to be to keep them safe. A tiny, illogical part of him had even hoped that maybe there had been a mistake, but here was the proof starting him in the face. 

Virgil struggled to take deep breaths as the fear and grief rose up again even heavier than before. His eyes burned but he refused to let the tears fall, pressing his still shaking hands harder against himself. 

_Just hold it together for a little longer_, Virgil told himself. _Just until you make it to Thomas’ apartment. _The teen gritted his teeth, uncertainty hanging over him like a cloud. Virgil had no way of knowing how Thomas would react to seeing him, and the building dread over all the negative possibilities added another layer to his struggles. 

By the time Virgil’s bus had come to a stop, and the teen had walked the blocks to Thomas’ apartment complex, Virgil’s composure had been stretched so tight that he knew it would take only a small setback in his plan for him to snap. He reached for the handle on the front gate of the building, grateful when his hands obeyed him again without issue- the tremors having finally subsided moments before- only to realize that it was locked. Virgil chewed his lip, just beginning to get anxious at the unexpected barrier before a man who looked like he was in his early twenties interrupted Virgil’s thoughts.

“Hey babe do you need some help?” The stranger asked. Dark sunglasses covered half of his face but Virgil could still tell his expression seemed friendly and genuine. “Did you lose your key?”

Virgil tugged at his hoodie sleeve self-consciously. “I’m actually here to visit someone.” The teen replied. “They don’t really know I’m coming though, so I don’t have a way in.”

“No problem kid,” the man grinned, pulling a key out of the messenger bag at his side. “Remy Dormir at your service.” The man- Remy- unlocked the gate with a flourish before giving Virgil a joking half salute. The two walked inside, Virgil going first with a muttered thanks and Remy following behind and closing the gate behind them. The emo expected Remy to leave, but instead the man turned to him and continued talking.

“Gurl you're lucky I just got back from an epic all-night concert. I don’t think anyone else would have been by for ages, unless you happened to catch my roommate. He’s a total morning person which is an  _ absolute crime _ if you ask me but I suppose we can’t all be perfect can we?” Remy paused to take a sip of coffee from the starbucks cup in his hand before going on. “Anyway, who are you visiting? I try to keep up with all the good drama in this complex, there's never a wrong time to gossip if you know what I mean, so there’s a chance I’ll know who you're talking about.”

Virgil shifted from one foot to the other, unsure about whether to tell the man where he was going. He had been nice so far, but he was still a stranger. Virgil decided on a simple answer.

“I’m just going to hopefully see my cousin. His name is Thomas.”

Remy seemed surprised at his answer. “No way babe!” The man said, lifting his glasses above his eyes as if to get a better look at Virgil’s face. “I never would’ve guessed!” Remy frowned slightly, as if remembering something important. “Just so I’m sure I heard you right, do you mean Thomas Sanders?”

“Umm yeah. Why?” Virgil replied, feeling suddenly nervous at Remy’s strange behavior.

Remy’s face morphed into an expression Virgil couldn’t place, before settling into something neutral. “It’s nothing gurl. I know exactly where he lives. Come with me.” Remy grabbed Virgil lightly by the wrist, directing them both down the hallway until they reached a door with the metal numbers “08” screwed into the surface. Remy pulled another key from his bag, opening the door with a click. 

“Wait out here for a minute.” Remy instructed before slipping inside, leaving the door open a crack behind him. Virgil was confused,  _ If this was Thomas’ apartment, then why did Remy have a key?  _ The man’s voice drifted through the door, it sounded like he was talking to someone just behind it. 

“Babe you’re gonna wanna see this. I didn’t ask his name but he says he’s your cousin and he totally matches what you told me about him the other day.”

“Wait are you serious?! This had better not be another one of your jokes Rem.” Another voice joined Remy’s. Virgil hadn’t heard it in a long time but it was familiar and instantly comforting all the same.

_ Thomas _ .

“I promise it's not. Scout’s honor! Even I know better than to joke about something like this. Would you please go out there and see if I’m right before the kid decides I’m trying to kidnap him or something. My mind totally blanked out once I realized who he was and I forgot to tell him we’re roommates so he probably thinks I’m a stalker or something.”

Virgil barely had time to process what they were saying before the door opened, and his cousin was standing in front of him looking absolutely shocked.

“Virgil?” Thomas said. The teen had only a moment to feel nervous and unsure, before the older man was crushing him into a tight hug. 

“Oh my gosh I can’t believe you’re here!” Thomas said, squeezing him tightly, “You have no clue how worried everyone has been. Logan called me pretty much the day you disappeared hoping I had some idea where you were.” Virgil felt guilt rise in him at that statement. He had known that his brother’s would be beside themselves, but somehow hearing it aloud only made him feel worse. 

Thomas pulled gently away from the embrace before continuing, looking Virgil up and down as if checking him for injuries. “Give me a second to get my phone and tell your brothers you’re okay and then you can tell me what happened.” Thomas instructed. Virgil felt his heart lurch and he grabbed Thomas’s arm with one hand to stop him.

“No!” The emo said frantically, “You can’t tell any of them that I’m here!” 

Thomas stopped mid-motion and his face clouded over with confusion at Virgil’s sudden intensity. “-I don’t understand Virge.”

“It’s a long story.” Virgil replied, “I’ll explain everything just...please don’t call anyone yet.” The question hung in the air for a moment before Thomas hesitantly nodded, clearly puzzled but not wishing to upset his cousin further. Thomas wordlessly led Virgil to what must be the living room before motioning for the younger boy to sit on the faded brown couch, where the two sat beside each other. 

“Remy, would you get me a coffee?” Thomas called to his roommate, who had already migrated to the kitchen. “I have the feeling that I’m going to want to be fully awake for this conversation.”

“No problem babe!” Remy replied from the other room.

Thomas turned his attention back to Virgil, and the teen did his best not to squirm under the other’s gaze. Suddenly the task of explaining himself seemed incredibly daunting. Virgil realized for the first time that he had yet to tell anyone else about his condition, and his tongue felt heavy with the gravity of what he was about to say. 

“I’ve been feeling  _ off  _ for the past few weeks,” Virgil began. “I didn’t think anything of it for a while and then when it started getting worse I brushed it off. I told myself it was no big deal but I think I just  _ knew  _ something wasn’t right. Long story short, I took one of mom’s old tests and it was positive. I’ve got the Catalyst virus.”

Virgil heard Thomas take in a sharp, surprised breath but didn’t let the other man speak before continuing, words coming out in a rush.

“Ro, Lo, and Pat are carriers too and I couldn’t risk infecting them. They would’ve tried to come near me or wanted to take me to the hospital and I knew we couldn’t afford that. There’s no point anyway, you remembered what happened to mom? We spent all our savings and they still couldn’t save her.” Virgil almost choked up but he struggled through the rest of the explanation. “I’m sorry to burden you by coming here, but I honestly didn’t have anywhere else to go and I knew that at least I wouldn’t be a danger to you since you’re not a carrier so the worst the virus could do to you is give you a bad cold. I promise I won’t stay here too long if you don’t want me to, I know how unfair it is for me to ask you to keep all of this a secret from my brothers but please just give me at least until tomorrow. I just need some time to figure out what to do.” Virgil pleaded on the last sentence. There was a heavy pause as Thomas processed the teen’s words.

“Oh Virgil I’m so sorry.” Thomas said, voice subdued. He hugged Virgil again, more tenderly than before and the teen buried his face in the other’s shoulder. “Of course you can stay here.” Virgil felt some of the tension drain out of his shoulders at his cousin’s words. Neither of them spoke for a while, Thomas providing silent reassurance and Virgil soaking in the first confort he had received since finding out his bleak diagnosis. 

“I don’t like the idea of not telling your brother’s,” Thomas admitted after a long moment, “But I’ll respect your wishes for now. We can talk about it more after you’ve had some sleep, you look like you could certainly use it.”

“Thank you.” Virgil replied gratefully, suddenly dead on his feet now that there was no immediate threat to face, feeling like it was the middle of the night instead of early morning. 

“The bathroom is that way if you want to take a shower,” Thomas pointed to the end of the hall. “I’ll bring you some spare clothes and you can sleep in my bed for now until we figure something else out.”

Virgil nodded and walked to the bathroom, eager to feel clean again after two nights spent on public buses and street corners. The boy quickly stripped and washed, feeling almost numb with tiredness. When he’d gotten out and dried off a loose t-shirt and sweats were waiting for him by the door and Virgil changed into them without hesitation. He pulled his hoodie out of the small pile of dirty clothes he had been wearing, unwilling to part with the garment. 

Virgil shuffled into the hallway, too tired to even dry his hair, which dripped on his shirt collar. 

“I’ve got to head to work but I’ll be back around 5:00pm,” Thomas said apologetically. “If you need anything just ask Remy, he’ll probably be sleeping in his room too.” Thomas said as he directed Virgil to his room. Virgil mumbled a quick thank you before falling into the offered bed. Virgil curled on his side, pulling the covers up to his chest and bundling his jacket under the pillow for added comfort, and was asleep in minutes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case some of you were confused, Remy is the character Sleep from Sanders Shorts. 
> 
> Don’t worry, more chapters are coming!

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, comments, and constructive criticism are always welcome. Thanks for reading.


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